


your bones ache most when held

by lavenderlotion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Sickfic, care taking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29088999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: “Ready?”Dad gave him a look that was equal parts appraising and equal parts curious. “Sti, I don’t need you to give me a bath.”“Okay,” Stiles agreed easily, a small smile curling around his lips. “I want to.”
Relationships: Sheriff Stilinski/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 12
Kudos: 67





	your bones ache most when held

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LeviSqueaks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeviSqueaks/gifts).



> For the Tumblr prompt: _Having their hair washed by the other & Caring for each other while ill_

Stiles’ hip was propped against the kitchen island as headlights beamed in from the dining room windows. A smile graced his lips as he swiped through the website for the Chinese place he and his dad liked the most, adding their usual order to the cart as he waited for the door to open. His stomach rumbled, so he swiped back to add a second order of soup. 

And then two more egg rolls. 

Dad was probably hungry too, right? Stiles flicked his eyes over to the stove to check the time and, considering it was closer to eight than seven, Stiles was pretty sure that he would be. 

Oh,  _ hell _ yeah. Ultimate Chinese Dinner.

The front door closed quietly, and Stiles heard the closet door open so Dad could store his service pistol and badge. He hummed along with what was playing from their kitchen speakers as he double-checked to make sure their order was right. 

“Hey, Daddio,” Stiles called, moving to the checkout page. “I’m getting us Chinese!”

Dad didn’t answer, so Stiles held off on placing the order just to make sure the older man hadn’t picked up anything along the way home. He raised his eyes to the hallway, watching with a small grin playing on his face. His heart started racing, just a little, just like it did  _ every _ time he thought about Dad lately. 

When Dad shuffled into view, Stiles’ smile fell clear off his face. 

“Hey, you okay?” Stiles asked, crossing the kitchen quickly. He brushed Dad’s hair off his forehead, laying the back of his hand against his temple. 

Dad was  _ pale.  _ He looked sickly, with the tint of green that Stiles was sure he was able to see. Despite the pallor of his face, the very apples of his cheeks were flushed red. There was a glow to his skin that looked more like a sheen of sweat, and something nervous twisted around in his stomach. It only got worse when Dad stared at him unseeingly. 

“Daddy?” Stiles asked quietly, when Dad didn’t say anything. 

Dad made a questioning noise, and he seemed to blink something heavy out of his eyes. “Hey, baby,” he greeted softly, a small smile curling around his lips that felt forced. 

“How are you feeling?” Stiles asked. He reached out to get his hands on Dad’s hips as he stepped close, only growing more worried when Dad swayed forward. 

Dad chuckled, but it wasn’t a funny sound. “Like garbage.”

Stiles hummed sympathetically, tipping a smile up at Dad when warm hands wrapped around his wrists. “Oh no,” he murmured, holding himself from leaning up for a kiss. “What do you think it is?”

Dad shrugged his shoulders, but then a cough wracked through his chest that had him bending forward. Stiles took a half step back, keeping one hand on Dad’s waist and moving another to his shoulder to keep him steady even as concern grew. 

“That doesn’t sound good,” Stiles said quietly. 

Dad snorted, and told him, “It didn’t feel good either.”

An uneasy smile spread across Stiles’ face as he tried to find humour in the joke. He knew that he shouldn’t, but his brain had started spiralling through worst-case scenarios as soon as he laid eyes on Dad’s flushed face, and he couldn’t stop it now. 

“Don’t look that worried, baby,” Dad told him softly, squeezing the hand he still had on Stiles’ wrist. “I’m sure it’s just a cold.  _ Someone’s _ been keeping me up at night.”

“Okay, one,” Stiles started with a raised eyebrow,  _ “I _ am not the one waking myself up for sex at the crack of dawn, mister. And two, it was  _ your _ idea for me to move into your room!”

“It was just a tease, baby,” Dad told him gently, but Stiles’ still drew his shoulders up. 

“Well... you can’t tease me about your health like that!”

Dad’s whole face softened, and Stiles let himself fall forward when he was drawn into a hug. He nuzzled up against Dad’s throat to breathe him in, scrunching his nose at the acidic scent of sweat, stronger than it should be. Crap, he must have been really sick. 

Stiles pulled back with his heart up in his throat, and told himself that everything was fine. 

“Why don’t... how about I order dinner for delivery, and while we wait I help you through a bath? Do you think that’ll help you feel better?”

Dad’s smile grew into something pleased and genuine, and Stiles couldn’t stop himself from stealing a kiss Dad kept chaste. 

“Meany,” Stiles pouted against his lips. 

He drew back when Dad laughed, smiling widely up at the man he loved. “Baby, what did I ever do to deserve you?”

“Honestly? I’m pretty sure this is  _ my _ good karma, old man.”

Dad barked out another laugh that Stiles silenced with a kiss. 

“So, a bath?” Dad asked, resting their foreheads together in a way that reminded Stiles  _ just _ how warm he felt. 

“Oh, definitely. You’re burning up.”

Stiles pulled back to go get his phone, then marched upstairs. 

Dad followed him up, and Stiles sent him to their bedroom when he went to get a bath going. They both preferred showers, but there was something about the faraway look that Dad had in his eyes that was still bothering him. Not a lot about their relationship changed when Stiles had broken down and admitted he was in love with his father. That said what it needed to about the way they acted around each other before, but now Stiles  _ craved _ to take him and... 

Well, he would. It wouldn’t just be a son caring about his father, but someone caring about their life partner. Sure, Dad was skeptical whenever Stiles used that label to define their relationship, but Stiles didn’t mind. He knew his own heart well enough to know that this was it for him. Tonight, Stiles was determined to pamper Dad with the same care the man had shown Stiles his whole life. 

And that started with bath salts. Stiles had a pack that was supposed to help relax sore muscles, but he figured they couldn't hurt as he added a scoop to the lukewarm water filling their tub. He knew that Dad liked his water really hot, but Stiles didn’t want to risk raising Dad’s temperature any more than it already was. 

Stiles stripped down to his briefs so his clothes wouldn’t get wet. Their tub did  _ not _ fit the two of them—Stiles was saving up for a bathroom renovation they  _ sorely _ needed—and while he wouldn't be getting in, he was determined to scrub Dad down. He kicked his clothes into the corner and then startled when Dad spoke. 

“Kiddo.”

Dad was leaning against the door frame. He was naked, and Stiles took a moment to track his eyes over his lover’s familiar frame. Dad was  _ gorgeous,  _ and Stiles would never tire of looking his fill after so many years of holding himself back. Dad’s chest was flushed pink, which was such an unusual sight it only added to Stiles’ concern. He turned off the water and stood. 

“Ready?” 

Dad gave him a look that was equal parts appraising and equal parts curious. “Sti, I don’t need you to give me a bath.”

“Okay,” Stiles agreed easily, a small smile curling around his lips. “I want to.”

It was easy to cross the room and steal another, sweeter kiss. He ran his hand down Dad’s side, digging his fingers into the skin above his hip. Dad kissed him back, letting their lips move together for a moment that stretched on into an eternity before Stiles finally drew back.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Stiles said softly, pinching Dad’s side gently as he pulled back.

“Are you saying I’m dirty?”

“I’m saying you stink,” Stiles told him with a snort, scrunching up his nose for added, dramatic effect. 

Dad smiled at him sweetly as he moved to the bath. He lowered into the tub slower than normal, which did nothing to ease Stiles’ worry. At least Dad was still joking around—that had to mean something good, right? Stiles busied himself with getting a towel from the hall closet, placing it on the edge of the counter. By the time Stiles stepped up to the tub, Dad was half-submerged and leaning back against the edge with a small smile on his face. 

“How’s the water?” 

Dad shot him a look. “Too cold.”

Stiles smiled indulgently, perching on the edge of the tub facing Dad. He reached out to brush his hair off his forehead, caressing his ear gently. “I know, but I don’t want you getting any warmer than you already are.”

“Sti, you don’t need to worry so much,” Dad told him seriously, snagging Stiles wrist to press a long kiss to his palm. 

Stiles gave his dad a tight smile. They both knew why he worried, why he’d  _ always _ worried, and it wasn’t like getting together was going to make any of that better. Stiles wasn’t going to be an orphan for a long, long time if he could help it. 

He didn’t have an answer, so he didn’t give one. They kept a jug under the sink that Stiles had already gotten out, so he instructed Dad to tip his head back and dumped a jug of bathwater over his head. He kept quiet as he reached for the bar of soap they used and lathered it up between his hands, before he started washing down Dad’s body. 

Neither of them spoke as Stiles rubbed the bar of soap across his arms, following his path with a hand. They’d been together for weeks now, but Stiles could hardly  _ breathe _ through the lump that was forming in his throat as just how  _ intimate _ it felt to wash Dad down. 

Stiles had to straddle the bath’s edge, his calf pressing up against Dad’s thigh to wash over his chest and down his stomach. Dad’s breathing was slow and deep, his eyes half-lidded as he watched Stiles watch him. The longer it went on the faster his heart started to race, his chest getting tighter and tighter as love expanded his heart until he felt fit to burst. 

He had to lean in for a kiss before moving on. Their lips moved together familiarly. It felt like they’d been kissing for a lifetime, and Stiles brought his hand up to cup the soft edge of Dad’s jaw as their lips slid together. 

“Daddy,” Stiles breathed, peppering his mouth with a few more sweet kisses before he pulled back. 

Stiles had to wipe away a tear that’d slipped out of the corner of his eye, and Dad’s hand wrapped around his ankle firmly. Stiles smiled again, then slid back so he could wash over Dad’s legs. He lifted Dad’s knee to get the length of them, then made sure to wash down the top of his foot before getting the underside. 

He repeated the motion on Dad’s other leg, keeping himself up with his core and grunting under the effort. Dad’s thumb ran across his ankle bone, and Stiles had to take a few deep breaths to ground himself after he’d straightened back up. 

“I love you,” Dad murmured, and Stiles bent to give him another kiss. 

“Scooch up,” Stiles whispered, before he stepped right into the bath and made a seat for himself on the edge of the tub, thankful for the wider ledge against the short wall that they usually piled with products. It wasn’t  _ comfortable, _ and Stiles could already tell that his legs were going to be cramped up by the time he was done, but he didn’t care. 

Stiles squirted a pump of shampoo into his palm, rubbed his hands together, and then set about massaging Dad’s scalp. He worked the shampoo into a lather first and then started making small circles with his thumb from the centre of Dad’s forehead down the crown of his head. 

“Fuck, baby,” Dad slurred, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down Stiles’ spine. “H-Holy shit, you’ve been holding out on me. Where the hell did you learn this?”

Stiles grinned, then bent down to press a careful case to Dad’s forehead. “I love you,” Stiles told him softly. 

He tipped his own head back against the tile as he continued to run his fingers over Dad’s head, alternating pressure. Dad let out soft noises of pleasure that filled Stiles’ with a warmth he’d never felt before. When a shiver ran down Dad’s spine, Stiles felt like he could do  _ anything. _ His heart hadn’t ever felt so full, and Stiles knew, all at once, that he was going to crave such close intimacy again. 

For now, he’d finish washing Dad up and put him to bed. He’d feed Dad Chinese and make sure he rested. When he was feeling better, they could talk about different ways to do this again.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> kudos aren’t the same as getting a comment, not even close. so a comment, as short and sweet or as sprawling and sporadic as you can manage, would be _greatly_ appreciated! don't know what to comment? how about _”this was great!”_ or _“awesome work!”_


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